


Canvas

by shitdamnhell (orphan_account)



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Character Study, Finn finding himself post First Order, Fluff, M/M, Poe/Finn is kind of minor here, Scars, i literally do not know how to tag this one, sorry friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 04:13:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10846248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/shitdamnhell
Summary: Finn counts scars like others count blessings. A strange habit, surely, but one he can’t seem to shake.He’d been nameless and faceless for a lifetime, just another cog in the machine that was the First Order, that for a long while the marks on his skin seemed like the only things that truly belonged to him.





	Canvas

**Author's Note:**

> i wasn't sure how to tag this one because this is my first fic that is 1) this short and 2) not plot or dialogue-heavy and that was kind of a new thing for me
> 
> anyways i hope you like it?

Finn never really gave that much thought to his body until he joined on with the Resistance, and truly, why would he? All his life he’d been stowed away in armor that covered him head to toe. He’d barely ever seen himself or anyone else without it, except in those few minutes every day the troopers were given to shower. So it’s not until he first joins the Resistance on D’Qar that Finn notices just how different his body is.

Granted, there’s so many different types of beings on base that  _ everyone _ stands out from one another, but they all seem to have something in common that he doesn’t. 

Everyone has scars.

Some are noticeable--covering faces and necks and hands, out for all to see--while others are only seen when sleeves are pushed up or fabric shifts just enough for mottled skin to appear.

Despite Finn’s desperation to rescue Rey and his relief at seeing Poe alive, he can’t help but to notice all these differences in the back of his mind. He thinks of his own untouched skin hidden beneath his clothes and wonders why it’s beginning to unsettle him.

~

The first scars come from Kylo Ren.  

His right shoulder bears a smaller mark than anyone had anticipated, but the burn still looks shiny and new even after so much time and bacta. 

His back, of course, tells the bigger story. Kylo Ren’s blade left a bright,  _ angry  _ line of flesh that travels from his right hip to left shoulder blade. The skin always looks raw and delicate, like if he twists too suddenly the wound will tear open again.

It’s the memory of a wound that should have killed him instantly. Every single time he feels it pull and tug along his spine is a reminder that he took that hit for Rey--and the knowledge that he’d do it all over again in a heartbeat. 

The scar is a memorial to the life he left behind, to the life FN-2187  _ chose _ to leave in order to live as  _ Finn.  _ He wears it proudly, a badge of honor, of valor. 

The burn shines brightly on his skin and it tells Finn that _this is what you’re fighting for,_ _they tried to mold you, to break you, but you fought and fought and you_ ** _won._** The First Order couldn’t keep his mind and not even a Sith Lord could keep Finn from fighting. 

Every pull of new flesh against old reminds Finn of why he joined this war, why the Resistance fights for the galaxy. It reminds him that he didn’t survive a nearly severed spine and months of rehabilitation to just roll over and surrender. Finn feels every tug along his back and tells himself:  _ they cannot win, because I won’t let them. _

~

Time passes, the war moves forward, and Finn’s made a home for himself in the Resistance. He takes a moment from time to time to look at himself in the mirror of his and Poe’s quarters, smiling as he sees the multitudes of new marks adorning his skin.

Maybe it’s weird to enjoy gaining each new scar, Finn muses to himself as he traces the newest addition on his ribs, but he does regardless. He doesn’t like the pain that comes with them--not in the slightest--he just loves the  _ stories.  _ Looking at his skin is like looking at a map or reading a book. It’s telling the story of  _ Finn. _

FN-2187 didn’t have any scars. FN-2187 spent his entire life imprisoned in body armor, half convinced that he was born into the armor and absolutely certain that he’d die in it.

(The closest thing he had to scars were the calluses on his hands that came from a lifetime of holding blasters. It didn’t seem to matter that he had worn gloves and gauntlets every time--his hands eventually moulded to their shape.)

Now, nearly a year and a half after Starkiller _ ,  _ Finn can barely recognize FN-2187 in his skin. 

It makes him smile. 

~

Finn’s taken a lot of hits since he’s joined the Resistance, and almost every last one has left a permanent mark. 

There’s the jagged line down the outside of his left thigh, given to him by a traitorous informant in a cantina with a broken bottle. 

There’s the blaster graze along his ribs, Finn having dodged a Stormtrooper’s shot in the nick of time. 

Three deep gouges on his right hip mark where some sort of wild animal took a swipe at him on his very first mission.

A dozen more scars cover Finn, and while most are born from violence, others hold happier memories.

Finn’s hands, for example, are covered in tiny marks from digging around in the engine of  _ Black One _ with Poe’s gentle instructions in his ear. 

His right ankle bears several small marks from the rock climbing adventure Rey had dragged him on when she first returned with Luke Skywalker.

His left forearm has several burns from the first time Finn tried to cook in an attempted romantic gesture for Poe. 

(The food itself was inedible, but considering he’s been sharing his bed with the Resistance’s best pilot ever since, he counts the mission as a success.)

~

Poe has his scars too--burns and cuts and scrapes all over from a free childhood and then a career as a pilot and soldier. Finn traces them with his fingers when they lie together, listening to Poe tell their stories over and over again, the older man endlessly patient with Finn and willing to indulge him every time. Poe has just as many scars as Finn, perhaps more, but not all are so easily seen. 

Poe’s not the first one to teach Finn that not all scars are physical, because Finn is no stranger to nightmares and flashbacks himself. Finn knows how the mind can hold just as many wounds as the skin, yet is so much harder to mend. 

There are nights where Poe wakes up screaming and shaking and weeping, the afterimage of Kylo’s mask a dark stain in his eyes. 

Finn does his best to comfort his beloved just as Poe does for him, kissing every scar he can reach and hoping that his love is able to seep below the surface and soothe the scars in Poe’s mind. 

(It does, a little, though Finn knows that it’s not enough to completely heal, that it never will be. But it’s okay. They’ll heal together, as best as they can.)

~

The only scar Finn hates is the thin line that traces the delicate skin of his neck, leading from just below his left ear to his collar bone. It was obtained on a ‘simple’ mission that he and Poe were assigned that all too quickly fell apart. 

Whenever Poe’s eyes catch on the mark Finn watches as his eyes go dead and distant as he remembers.

A stumble, a shout, blaster fire, it all happened so quickly when suddenly something in Finn’s mind shouted  _ danger, danger, DANGER  _ so he threw himself at Poe and covered him with his body as the room exploded around them. 

Debris soared--metal and glass and stone raining down on them. A lucky piece slid across Finn’s throat as they tumbled through the air. His skin split and blood covered Poe’s hands. 

The older man had babbled incessant reassurances as he dragged Finn to their ship, whether it was for his benefit or Finn’s, he was never sure. 

Bandages were pressed to flesh and prayers to gods and the Force alike were muttered under breath all through hyperspace until they landed on base and continued even when the med staff carried Finn away.

Poe was never a religious person, but he always swore that he must have gained some god’s favor that day because Finn had been stabilized and mended within minutes of his arrival. It was soon revealed that the slash along Finn’s neck wasn’t nearly as dangerous as they had thought, but instead it was the percussion from the blast and the other debris that had stunned Finn with one hell of a concussion.

Even with that relief taking the weight from Poe’s shoulders, Finn knows that Poe still somehow blames himself for the injury. There’s no dissuading him, the pilot is far too stubborn for that, so Finn just lets his boyfriend press a kiss to the scar every morning and night in his own way of asking for forgiveness.

~

Finn counts scars like others count blessings. A strange habit, surely, but one he can’t seem to shake.

He’d been nameless and faceless for a lifetime, just another cog in the machine that was the First Order, that for a long while the marks on his skin seemed like the only things that  _ truly _ belonged to him. 

(Things are different now, of course. Finn has his friends and his beloved and his mentors, he has  _ things _ \--useless things like nicknacks and posters that clutter his walls just for the hell of it--and more clothes than he ever thought one person could need.)

He loves knowing each and every mark on his skin and the story behind them. He thrives on the history that’s mapped across him saying  _ this is your journey, your life, this is  _ **_you,_ ** _ Finn.  _

FN-2817 isn’t forgotten, though--he  _ can’t _ be forgotten--because Finn knows what happens to those who try to bury the past. FN-2187 was the one who refused to shoot, the one who saw the death and destruction around him and thought,  _ I need a pilot.  _ He is the foundation on which Finn built his new life, providing the blank canvas for Finn to write his story.

When he wakes up each morning and feels the new skin along his spine tug and pull, Finn always smiles and thinks,  _ Better make it a good one.  _

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @ shitfuckgoddamnhell


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